A Clockwork Lemon
by Wolfe1
Summary: 15 year old Mamoru Chiba's hobbies include Beehtoven, rape, and ultraviolence.
1. The Milky Way

A Clockwork Lemon  
  
"What's it going to be then, eh?"  
  
I was sitting at the Milky Way strip joint, gawking with awe and wonder at the beautiful freak show that occupied the club. I was sitting on a chair formed after a naked woman, a beautiful form, one made for abusing. It filled me with a sense of belonging and pride just to be there. Alone, with my kind.  
  
Beside me sat my three senshi, with on my right side being Taiki and Seiya, and on my left sat Yaten, who was not so quick with the mind as with the shotgun, but was one of us nonetheless. One of us. Us. We were not like everybody else. My faithful senshi were far above the hopeless people of the public, and I myself was far above them. We were different.  
  
We. were senshi. The gods had blessed us with power, more power than you could possible viddy oh my brothers. Strength, speed, and beauty, the senshi had been blessed with. Blessed far above others, we had life that was true value. Below us were the animals, and the public. We were of a different form, and of a different race. We were senshi.  
  
There were not so many of us, as compared to other people, but there were not really so few wither. Thousands of us had been spread over the world, and there were dozens in my city alone. Of course all of us had different ideas of what it meant to be a senshi. Some chose to fight evil. Others chose to seek glory for themselves. Most of us just sat around beating on the normal freaks, and doing lots of cocaine. Which is what I was doing on that fateful evening in the Milky Way.  
  
We were dressed in the height fashion of the time, and of the place. Myself, I was dressed in a tuxedo, complete with a cape and a top hat of course. I also had a brand new mask,, that had just been made for me that afternoon. A mask seemed ideal. A small but of mystery accompanied my presence well. And I made for a true attire that showed the rich spirit that so truly accompanied a senshi like myself. It would be inexcusable for a senshi such as myself to be seen in an attire that didn't astound the eye. If I were to go out for a night on the town in something other then my tuxedo, it would just be a wasted effort.  
  
Over at a table across from us there was a group of women. They were much younger then I, and they seemed to be a little unsure of themselves. A damned foolish thing too. A senshi was not to be seen as afraid, not even by others of their own. If they were not of our own, then I would surely have had a ruff spot of the old in-out with them right on the spot. Fragrances of weakness came off of their bodies, the kind that so often invited me to indulge my instincts. But that scent was not to be smelt in this place. I knew that they were not yet ready to be here. Who had told them they were senshi? What was happening?  
  
"What's it going to be then, eh?"  
  
I pondered the question somewhat myself, seeing as how my faithful fellows had no ideas to spring forth. I had initially thought of trying to meet some people at this place, but alas, the young girls had turned me off to that idea. Which was just as well. It really was no sense to have more then four or so in such a gang as this. It just became confused, and dissonance would inevitably follow. No, the gang was satisfactory as it was.  
  
There was something missing though. I could not place my finger on the problem, and so resolution seemed a hopeless resolve. Instead, I decided to ignore the problem, and just make out with the night as I had previously been meaning to do. Never mind these feelings I thought to myself. Mamoru Chiba was not a force to be reckoned with on any night, confused feelings or not. So I built up resolve to continue with my merry night as I had planned.  
  
"What do you all say we head out for a little spot of fun?" I asked of my faithful gang of fellow senshi. As I said this, I took out a rose I had in my pocket. It was razor sharp, enough to rip a man's throat apart if thrown by a master such as myself.  
  
"Oh?" replied Yaten. It was not so much of a reply as a confused grunt. I don't believe that the suggestion was even understood. No matter at all.  
  
"Come now, let us be on our path to some fun and games." This time it was not a question, but a fact. I was the leader of this gang, and if I saw this as a fact, then a fact it was. So we all snorted a little cocaine, and headed out for an evening of ultra-violence. 


	2. Kenji

Along the very first stop on the way I and me mates found one "Kenji", a bitter alcoholic, rambling alongside the road. I could see his name from a nametag he had on his MacDonald's uniform, which he apparently hadn't even taken off before he began his after-work boozing. His rambling consisted mostly of prophecies; recited from a book he had lying around. He was another old-timer who moaned about the times past when Senshi were good and pure, and when hard did not befall those who didn't deserve it, except from the hands of those who did. And he said that the great equalizer had always been Senshi... And still was, but now in the very worst way. The great striking down was always mere moments away when there were men as myself at hand. And his nonsense began to take the form of poetry...  
  
"I stood upon the grass of life A field with beautiful flowers Never here has there been suffering For here is the land of the growers"  
  
I walked up to him, with a strange sense of pain and curiosity. I struck him harshly once across the cheek, and asked him what he meant by that. He fell down and couldn't speak, so I took out the knife in my left-middle- front pocket, the one that had an insignia of a rose on it, and told me senshi to step back for a minute. I looked directly into his eyes, and looked as deep as possible to see the beauty in his soul, but he was too drunk to look back at me. I wanted to cry.  
  
So I flipped out the blade, and then pushed it slowly up against his (bloodshot) left eye. I think it started to bleed, but it was hard to tell. I could definitely feel the warm surface of his eye crack, signifying to me that the knife was now inside of his eye. I stared at him, exercising all possible human force to ensure that I didn't penetrate his eye one bit further, at least not until I could determine whether he was really worthy to be considered a human being – even if he would never be half the man I was. What would it mean to be senshi if it wasn't something you're born with?  
  
I spent all the concentration I had just watching my hand. I could see my hangnail, and was at least a little bit disgusted. My knuckle was worn and bruised, more so than was reasonable for someone of my age. But I really don't care, since after all ...my soul was born higher than yours...  
  
About the time I noticed the fact that blood was running down the blade of my knife, I lost my concentration for a moment and my hand slipped just slightly, pushing the knife in just slightly more. Aghast, I very quickly pulled out and felt the embossment of the rose against my palm, and stared into his face with great concern. And I almost went deaf.  
  
He had been screaming. For a long time. Possibly since before I had taken out the knife. And I had been to busy concentrating to notice. There was no way to tell whether or not that would be to my credit or not... But nonetheless it was very eerie. And turning around I found Yaten, Seiya, and Taiki. All a little bit put off by my strange phasing out of complete consciousness. And to tell the truth, it was a little odd to me too. So we killed him.  
  
Seiya cut off one of his arms with a broadsword, causing a small bit of bone to fly off, which unfortunately hit an onlooker in the temple. Yaten laughed, and I punched him in the face (an evil move.) Not that the homeless freak who thought this all his business didn't deserve what was coming to him, but it was not funny.  
  
Yaten grabbed his nose, but instead of retaliating, he took his anger out on Kenji. He cut off a piece of his ear with scissors that he carried around on him. After showing it to him, (in front of his good eye), he slit a piece of his nose.  
  
After several more mutilations and general punches, kicks, insults, and assorted random acts of violence, I told them to let me some room. And so I slit his Achilles' tendon, and left him hobbling to a nearby hospital, which he would almost certainly never reach. I couldn't know for sure though, because it would not be on the news.  
  
Who would possibly care for this Kenji?  
  
Besides, it was his fault. Why would you scream in that deafening pitch when you're already such an ugly soul? 


End file.
